


It's Only As Real As You Let It Be

by digirhys



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Brief Violence, Consensual Violence, D/s undertones, Implied Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4090846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digirhys/pseuds/digirhys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gift for my <a href="http://notjustahologram.tumblr.com">Jack</a>. Unbeta'd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Only As Real As You Let It Be

“The thing about  _pain_ , kitten?” Jack circled like a vulture, voice low and threatening. Rhys was so accustomed to the older man’s tendency to lurk that he’d blocked it out, offering a small ‘mhm’ in acknowledgement as he typed.

“It’s only as real as you let it be.” That, and a soft whooshing through the air was the only warning Rhys got before the metal buckle of Jack’s belt made contact across his shoulder blades.

Rhy screamed, more in shock than pain,  and leapt to his feet, sending his chair spinning away as he he took in a sharp breath. Jack laughed behind him, grabbing a fistful of Rhys hair and shoving him forward against the desk. Rhys scrambled to try and brace himself, the hot stripe across his back screaming in protest as his skin stretched and pulled.

“Ah ah ah,” Jack tutted softly and twisted Rhys’ hair sharply, brushing the knuckles of the hand that held his belt gently up Rhys’ side. “Today we’re gonna play a little game, alright kiddo? Gonna bolster your tolerance some, toughen ya up.” It was more a command than an actual question and they both knew it.

Rhys groaned, almost exasperated as he gave a halting nod in Jack’s firm grip. The older man’s hand loosened and brushed tenderly through Rhys’ hair before moving to untuck his shirt, pushing it up until it was bunched up around Rhys’ shoulder blades just below the angry red mark decorating his skin.

He didn’t sit up, didn’t think about it nor try. He and Jack had settled on safe words months ago and Rhys knew his limits, even though Jack liked to push them. In all honestly, Rhys enjoyed them being pushed as well. Jack would get away with more than Rhys’ body could truly endure and he would almost cruelly force the younger man to safe word out, ending the scene. Only once had Jack elected to end it, using his own safe word on Rhys’ behalf. Rhys was quite smug about the entire thing and made a point of teasing Jack for it on occasion.

“The thing about pain,” Jack stated, tracing his fingers along the knobs of Rhys’s spine. “It really is mind over matter and all that. Think about something else, disconnect from the physical, yadda yadda, you get the idea.”

Rhys swallowed, shivering as goosebumps lifted on his skin following the trails of Jack’s touch. He nodded slowly, struggling to keep his mind from wandering as he relaxed into Jack’s touch. A teasing pinch of the soft skin by his hip made him yelp, bucking forward into the desk. Rhys’ head snapped up enough to shoot a dirty look at Jack who merely smiled darkly in return.

“Just making sure I got your attention, pumpkin,” he cooed, patting the tender spot and chuckling softly. Jack adjusted his grip on the belt that was doubled over the back of his hand. Rhys noted that the buckle hung loose, a telltale sign that Jack seemed intent on continuing…whatever this was, to a rather high level.

“I’m paying attention,” Rhys muttered, putting on an indignant pout as he shifted and tried to get comfortable. A handful of miscellaneous items on his desk had been scattered and knocked to the floor, but Rhys was thankful he wasn’t pressed up against any pens or pencils. Just the flat of the desk against his chest. He shifted and brought his arms up, crossing them to give himself a more comfortable place to rest his head.

“Of course you are.” Jack’s grin darkened further, something Rhys missed from his current vantage point. “Now what we’re gonna do–or, you’re gonna do. You’re gonna count, I’m gonna whip you with this until you can’t remember your own name. Sound good?”

A visible shiver travelled the length of Rhys’ spine as he swallowed around a thick lump in his throat, his cheeks flushing darkly. He shifted in anticipation, trying to simultaneously brace himself and relax for what was to come. His shoulders already ached insistently, and Jack’s current angle meant that the entire right side of Rhys’ body was his target. He’d be half of one giant bruise, if not more, in about twenty minutes.

“Ready, kitten?”

Rhys whined softly, nodding as the belt came down.


End file.
